Safe Harbor
by ABC Girl
Summary: CSI MiamiCalleigh runs Horatio follows. Lighthouse metaphors abound.


Title: Safe Harbor  
  
Author: abc3969 (Andrea)  
  
Disclaimer: Me not profit, you no sue.  
  
Rating: PG (Give it a chance.angsty schmoop)  
  
Pairing: While I might explore the potential of other duos on occasion, my heart will always return to H/C, and so, to my own muse, I must be true.  
  
Archive: Is anybody archiving these? If so, just say so. I'll come visit.  
  
Spoilers: Body Count  
  
Author's Notes: I freely confess never to have seen the locales depicted here. Liberal doses of literary license abound. To anyone who has seen or knows this place, my apologies.  
  
Feedback: If you please. Be gentle.  
  
*****  
  
Safe Harbor  
  
Janet Medrano's untimely, violent death had shaken Calleigh to the core. Never had anyone close to her been murdered. She had only been in Miami a few short months when Raymond Caine died. Accounts from Horatio and Hagen where her only insights into Ray's life, and, by extension, his death.  
  
Present at Janet's parents' sides when they received the news of their daughter's murder, Calleigh did her best to fill the void for the Medranos.  
  
Now, only a few days later, Calleigh was both physically and emotionally exhausted. She'd lost a good friend, apprehended the killer, and kept on working long into the nights, opting to run lab test of cold cases rather than going home to sleep.  
  
Horatio had always been acutely aware of Calleigh--her presence, her state of mind, her emotions. Sometimes, it scared him how deeply he connected with her. But, since Janet's death, Calleigh had closed off the channel that ran between herself and him.  
  
Always before, she had a ready smile and a flirtatious comment for him when they passed in the hallway. If they worked separate cases, she made it a point to call his cell phone from time to time just to check in. He was her touchstone to reality. She was a beacon out of the dark insanity that tended to shroud him. So different, yet so alike. He'd effortlessly become accustomed to her quirky sense of humor and her guileless charms. Now, the gleam had gone out of Calleigh's eye and her smile was polite, but nothing more. Horatio could tell she hadn't been sleeping and that her nerves were live wires waiting to spark at the slightest provocation.  
  
Not wishing to draw her ire at this intrusion into her personal life, Horatio dialed Calleigh's pager and keyed in his home phone number, then sat back to await her call.  
  
The call never came...  
  
*****  
  
Horatio hoped to approach Calleigh about the call to her pager the next morning, but when he arrived and strolled into the building, he could find her nowhere. No one had seen or heard from her since yesterday. She hadn't left any messages on any of his phones. It was though she had disappeared.  
  
A hint of worry lodged itself in Horatio's subconscious, but he dismissed it, assuring himself that Calleigh was one of the top CSIs in the country and could hold her own against even the hardest of hardened criminals. Many a manly man had withered beneath her pointed stare and cringed at her vehement tongue-lashings. And she wasn't half bad with a gun either.  
  
Horatio opened the door to his office and made his way to the desk. He slid open the top drawer to retrieve a pen to begin tackling the mountain of paperwork littering his desktop when he saw the envelope tucked neatly under his favorite pen. The pale pink note carried the faint scent of vanilla. He recognized her fluid script immediately and grinned despite himself. He broke the seal on the flap and gently pulled the paper from the jacket.  
  
He read and reread the words, unable to fathom their true meaning. Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the thunderous headache that threatened to erupt behind his eyes, Horatio sat down heavily behind the desk and read the note yet again.  
  
"...I've lost so much," it read, "I feel as though there is nothing left. I don't know when or if I'll be back. Please don't look for me. I'll get word to you when I'm ready."  
  
Not good enough, Horatio thought to himself. Oh, God, it's Megan all over again...only this time, the stakes are much higher, the price to great.  
  
Horatio immediately dialed her home phone, with no response; her cell-- again, no answer.  
  
He needed to find her, to go to her and be there for her as she had done for him countless times. He wasn't going to let her shut him out. Not now. They'd become so close and meant so much to each other. He wouldn't let her out of his life that easily.  
  
For the two years he'd known her, every time the darkness in his soul threatened to overtake him, she was there to shine her warm glow around him. She had become the tether that held him to solid ground when he came perilously close to falling over the edge into his own personal pit of despair. No, he wasn't about to let her go.  
  
*****  
  
With only a slight pang of guilt, Horatio slid the key into Calleigh's front door. They had exchanged keys months ago, in case of emergency, they said, each knowing there was more to it than that, but neither one willing to voice the possibilities attached to this display of affirmation. He hated violating her trust like this, but he was sure that in time, she would understand and forgive him the trespass.  
  
Using his trained investigative eye, Horatio scanned the apartment and found that nothing seemed out of place. Everything neat and tidy, it appeared she'd only taken a trip--a sabbatical from the recent horrors visited upon her.  
  
Horatio began to look around for clues as to where Calleigh could have gone. Her cat, Millimeter, was in the neighborhood kennel, as evidenced by the claim check stuck to the refrigerator by the "Hit Me with Your Best Shot" magnet from the Dade County Riflemen's Club.  
  
No notes or paper were left out to be of any help. There were no messages on her answering machine, save the recorded dial tone from his own earlier call.  
  
Knowing Calleigh's penchant for technology, Horatio realized that a viable option was to review her recent Internet hits or retrieve her e-mail. After a moment's hesitation, he chose the former and stared up her computer. As luck would have it, the system wasn't password protected, so Internet access was only a few clicks away. With one more click, the list of her most recently visited web sites dropped down. Southern Living, Cat World, nothing jumped out as beyond ordinary for Calleigh. MapQuest, Lighthouse Lore...Lighthouse Lore, now that could be something...Horatio clicked open the site and scanned down the page.  
  
Apparently, Calleigh had been reading about a lighthouse at Port Boca Grande that had been decommissioned by the port authorities and is currently being used as a tourist lodging. On a hunch, Horatio clicked open the MapQuest and found the search last performed--a detailed map of Florida's Gulf Coast and step-by-step directions to Port Boca Grande. Shutting down the computer, Horatio left the apartment and hurried to his own home to pack a bag. He was going on a road trip to the lighthouse at Boca Grande, sure he'd find Calleigh holed up there, licking her wounds.  
  
*****  
  
Horatio drove for hours, finally reaching the sleepy little town in late afternoon. A street vendor selling tourist trinkets pointed him in the direction of the renowned landmark. After a few more minutes' drive, the tower came into view. Horatio was able to park his SUV in a beachside lot adjacent to a gravel path that wound its way toward the lighthouse. He was relieved to find Calleigh's car in the same lot. She was here after all.  
  
Horatio could easily see the southern charm that would have attracted Calleigh to this place. The keeper's house was modeled after a colonial manor house, much like those he imagined she was surrounded by while growing up. A wrap-around porch was accessible from either of two stairways on opposite ends of the house. The whitewashed planks belied their age and gleamed brightly in the last rays of the afternoon sun.  
  
He knocked on the front door to no avail. He ventured a peek in the front window. There was no sign of Calleigh. Horatio wandered around the porch toward the back and stopped short when his eyes lit upon a copse of trees just to the side of the house. There, tied between two of the sturdier trees, was a huge hammock, reminiscent of a fisherman's net, and cocooned within it, lay Calleigh, her eyes closed, face tilted toward the setting sun, arms folded beneath her head, and legs demurely crossed at the ankles. Horatio's breath hitched at the sight. He'd never seen her looking more lovely or this relaxed--peace of mind personified. Her Mona Lisa smile prevented him from discerning whether or not she was napping.  
  
Horatio stealthily advanced toward the hammock, and so as not to frighten her, whispered in his gentlest smoky timber,  
  
"Is there room in there for one more?"  
  
Calleigh's eyes shot open and her body shifted all in one motion to bring her feet to the ground. The hammock swung wildly and Calleigh was forced to grasp it with both hands in an attempt to steady the dizzying rocking.  
  
Her face, just moments ago the picture of serenity, now clouded over with visible anxiety and something akin to fear.  
  
In the split second before Horatio could say anything else, Calleigh swiveled on her heel and bolted for the beach. Dazed at Calleigh's swift retreat, Horatio's legs began to run after her, propelled by a force he was powerless to fight.  
  
"Please, Calleigh. Wait. Talk to me. Don't shut me out. Please?" Horatio called to her form behind. Horatio slowed his pace to a leisurely walk, stopping mere steps from Calleigh, her back still to him.  
  
"Horatio, I asked you not to try to find me. Why are you here? How did you know?" Calleigh choked out through a barrage of tears.  
  
Horatio gently took hold of Calleigh's shoulders and pivoted her slight frame to face him.  
  
"You seem to have forgotten that I'm Miami's lead crime scene investigator. Did you really expect me NOT to come looking for you? We need each other, Cal. Alone, we're both currents in search of an outlet, but together, we complete a circuit. Let me help you get through this," Horatio implored.  
  
Calleigh's entire being waged a battle within itself. She didn't know which emotion to tackle first--the bone-weariness, the anger at fate, or the absolute elation at having Horatio in her sphere of existence. He knew her better than anyone, even Janet. He could read her thoughts and finish her sentences. He was everything to her--best friend, mentor, supervisor and soul mate. She drew strength from him at every turn, but in this instance, she wanted, needed, to fight these demons alone.  
  
"Horatio, I appreciate your concern, really, I do, but I can't ask you to stand back and watch me fall apart. That wouldn't be fair to you." Calleigh explained.  
  
Horatio turned toward the on-coming tide and let the spray caress his face. He took in a lung-full of air and looked back at Calleigh. Desperate for her to grasp his meaning, he replied anxiously,  
  
"What's not fair is for you to push me away. Especially now. I don't intend to stand idly by and watch you fall apart...I intend to stand right beside you and catch you before the fall, if you'll let me."  
  
He looked longingly into her eyes, hoping against hope that she would relent and allow him to share her pain and help her begin to heal.  
  
Calleigh had listened to his declaration of intent with both her ears and her heart. More than anything, she craved the effect he's always had on her. With one glance, he could make her spirit sing and with one word, he could repair the damage wrought by the horrendous sights they witnessed daily.  
  
The past few days, with all their inherent dangers and worries, had exacted a terrible toll on her. She had felt herself morphing from a steely southern woman to a spineless mass of emotional conflict, becoming weaker and needier as the hours passed. She hated the feeling, but could do nothing to stop its progression. So, she had run. That, she hated most of all. Never one to shy away from confrontation, this time, she had chosen to escape and give up the fight; and, sensing her dilemma, Horatio had followed her and made it his mission to rescue her from herself.  
  
Sighing with relief born of much anguish, Calleigh did all that was left her to do. She stepped toward him with outstretched arms and burrowed herself into his willing embrace, letting loose a torrent of tears that had been pent up for what seemed like a lifetime.  
  
Horatio cradled her head in one hand and tenderly stroked her back with the other.  
  
In time, her tears subsided and his grasp loosened. Calleigh pushed herself back to look him in the eye, and was astonished to find a lone teardrop meandering down Horatio's cheek. Without so much as a moment's consideration, Calleigh pushed herself onto her toes and gently swept her lips over the droplet, effectively kissing it from his skin. The contact, and the emotion behind it, were electric.  
  
Realizing she may have taken too much liberty, Calleigh had the good grace to blush faintly and avert her eyes. Horatio remedied the situation by tucking his hand under her chin and lifting it slowly, making eye contact a virtual certainty. The smile that greeted her was both emotionally warm and sensually inviting.  
  
Resigned now to the idea that her destiny had been decided the day she met this man, Calleigh took both his hands in hers and slowly led him back to the lighthouse.  
  
Seemingly unable and unwilling to resist the Siren's beckoning toward the promise of remarkable passion and sweet communion, they relinquished all restraint and allowed themselves to be swept into the tempestuous currents of intimacy.  
  
Ensconced securely within each other's orbits, together they had navigated their rocky pasts and, guided by the beacons of each other's souls, had arrived safely on the shore. 


End file.
